


From Minerva's Eyes

by YourPalYourBuddy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8840377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourPalYourBuddy/pseuds/YourPalYourBuddy
Summary: Looking back on it, Minerva muses, it really was quite obvious. She studies the boy standing quietly in line, this boy with his face and her eyes, and wonders how it didn’t happen sooner.Of course, she smiles slightly, it wasn’t without lack of resistance on his mother’s part, at least at the beginning. The boy takes a few more steps forward as the other children are called to sit down on the stool and be Sorted.Minerva takes the Hat off Sally-Anne Perks and calls out, “Potter, Harry!” James and Lily Potter’s son steps forward, scar faintly visible under his father’s dark hair, and she smiles at him slightly. He sits uncertainly as the Hall hisses and murmurs with his name. She waits for the Hat’s judgement, and as she does, she remembers._______________James Potter and Lily Evans' relationship, from Minerva McGonagall's perspective.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory statement that I sadly do not own these characters.
> 
> I'm on tumblr: @ivecarvedawoodenheart, come say hi!

Looking back on it, Minerva muses, it really was quite obvious. She studies the boy standing quietly in line, this boy with his face and her eyes, and wonders how it didn’t happen sooner.

Of course, she smiles slightly, it wasn’t without lack of resistance on his mother’s part, at least at the beginning. The boy takes a few more steps forward as the other children are called to sit down on the stool and be Sorted.

Minerva takes the Hat off Sally-Anne Perks and calls out, “Potter, Harry!” James and Lily Potter’s son steps forward, scar faintly visible under his father’s dark hair, and she smiles at him slightly. He sits uncertainly as the Hall hisses and murmurs with his name. She waits for the Hat’s judgement, and as she does, she remembers.

________

She sits next to Horace and Albus at breakfast time, one hand on her wand as James and Lily approach each other. They’d been having, ah, _incidents_ over mealtime this last week for some unknown reason, and Minerva has no desire to be hit by another flying ham. From this distance Potter doesn’t look repentant over this last bout of rule breaking; he grins down at Lily from his lanky height as she shoves past him to her usual seat. Sirius and Potter slide onto the bench next to her. Potter drapes an arm casually over her shoulder, leaning to whisper something in her ear. Minerva tenses as Lily pushes his face aside and reaches into her robes, but relaxes when she pulls out a book. The girl opens it and sets it between her and Potter like a wall.

“Thank goodness,” Albus says quietly as he slices butter onto his toast. “They had me worried for a moment.”

“Thank goodness for Ms. Evans’ restraint,” Minerva replies with a sigh. “I don’t know what I would have done in her shoes.”

Albus chuckles. “You and I know well that Mr. Potter and Mr. Black would have been Transfigured into delightful sea creatures had that been you,” he teases gently.

“You aren’t wrong, Albus,” Minerva admits. She begins pouring herself a cup of pumpkin juice.

“Don’t you think Evans and Potter would be an excellent couple, though. Minerva?” Horace interjects from her right, causing her to spill the juice in surprise.

“Why, Horace, whatever do you mean? They cannot stand the sight of each other,” Minerva says as she Vanishes the spilled juice, then amends, “Or, Lily can’t, at any rate. Not to mention that they’re barely thirteen years old!”

“Much can change over four years, Minerva,” Horace replies with a smile as they watch James Potter vainly try to regain Lily’s attention.

Minerva does not reply, surveying the two with a critical eye over her goblet. “Hmm,” she muses. “That’s true…however, he’s going to have a lot of damage to undo if he keeps this up.”

“I wouldn’t bet against him,” Albus says. His piercing blue eyes scan James and he nods, having evidently come to some conclusion. “He has great potential.”

“You know, Albus, I’ll wager two galleons that they end up together by winter of their sixth year,” Horace says, leaning over.

“Take it,” Pomona Sprout says, also leaning in. “There’s no chance it’ll happen before they sit for their NEWTs.”

Minerva picks up an apple and studies it critically. “I highly doubt that,” she says crisply. She looks to where the two sit; Lily has turned back to Potter with a tight grip on her goblet, clearly threatening to dump it on his head. Sensing danger, Minerva stands and says, “I’ll give them seventh year until the Quidditch Cup,” before going to split them apart.

___

James Potter and his friends stand just outside her classroom joking around with their arms full of books, but when Lily Evans walks by, James’ books tumble to the ground.

Horace, escorting a group of his first years, beams at Minerva and gestures to the blushing James with a wide grin on his face. Minerva rolls her eyes. James picks up his books while staring after Lily with a red flush spread over his cheeks. Remus Lupin stoops to help him pick them up, eyes still tired after the last full moon, while Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew snigger into their hands.

“Good luck there, James,” Sirius says with a laugh.

Remus hands James his last book, and he stands. “Just you wait, Sirius,” James says, still looking after Lily. “Someday…someday you’ll see.”

Minerva ushers her assembled class inside and begins the lesson.

___

“I must say, Ms. Evans, I did not expect to see you here.”

Lily stands on the other side of her desk, dripping lakewater all over Minerva’s office. Her red hair clings to her face in bunches and her eyes are nothing short of furious. When she speaks, however, her voice is a studied calm.

“I didn’t either, Professor McGonagall,” Lily replies. She massages a fist out of her left hand. “I swear, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to force Potter into the lake? By all accounts, you were very intentional in your actions,” Minerva says, spelling the girl’s robes dry. She has to fight to keep amusement from her lips, and as a result her mouth thins into a hard line. “Would you please inform me as to your thinking behind this decision?”

Her words come in a flood. “You see, Professor, he and Black were taunting Severus again, calling him “Snivellus” again and making fun of his hair and appearance—as if Potter’s is any better, and can Sev help it if his hair is a little bit greasier than other people’s? It’s not at all his fault, you know, just genetics, which are unfair for the most part in general, and it’s not like Potter’s or Black’s gene pool is superior, what with all the pureblood inbreeding—”

“Ms. Evans, please,” Minerva interrupts, holding up a hand. “As fascinating as your account of Mr. Snape’s hair is, kindly redirect your tirade to Mr. Potter.”

Lily flushes. “My apologies, Professor.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, Severus and I were walking along the Lake and Potter and his friends ambled up to us—you know how they act like they own the place—and immediately started on Severus. When I stepped between James and Sirius and Sev, Potter started flirting with me and ignored what I had to say. I threatened to hex him, and he laughed. Black used some spell on Sev—I don’t know what it was, levi-something—and I shouted and Potter laughed and I pushed him into the Lake.”

Minerva appraised her behind her spectacles, waiting.

“That’s…that’s all, Professor,” Lily finished tentatively. Then her eyes widened. “Oh. Well, that and Potter somehow grabbed my hand and pulled me in after him, and made some crack about me falling for him.”

“I heard you punched him.”

Lily kicks at an uneven stone. “That’s correct, Professor,” she mumbles.

Minerva steeples her fingers and sighs. “Well, Ms. Evans, I do not doubt that Potter deserved the dousing, but I highly encourage you to leave any form of, ah, extra punishment up to myself and Professor.” Lily nods mutely, engrossed in studying a hangnail on her right hand. “And I’m afraid I must give you detention as well.”

Lily’s gaze snaps up to meet Minerva’s eyes. “Professor, why—?” With admirable control, the young witch composes herself. “Of course, Professor.”

“I’ll inform you as to when your detention will take place. Have no doubt, this incident, being your first infraction, will not much affect your chances at Prefect next year,” Minerva adds kindly. Lily’s face relaxes slightly. Ushering the girl out with a biscuit in hand, Minerva says with a sigh, “And please send Potter in on your way out.”

___

Minerva patrols the corridors in Animagus form, padding dutifully on the landing outside Gryffindor Tower. She goes over to the corner to the right of the portrait of the Fat Lady and sits, ears perked and alert for any sudden sound.

The world outside the niche that is Hogwarts is growing darker and darker of late. Every week brought the news that another person had been kidnapped or killed, many of the victims somehow related to Hogwarts students. Those students often left the school to be with their families, something Minerva cannot hold against them.

A sudden scuffling from the portrait next to her catches her attention. She waits, crouched low, and after a minute or two the portrait swings open. Minerva narrows her eyes in surprise.

Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald peer out of the opening, bedheaded and in their pajamas. Mary yawns and rubs her eyes as Lily says, “Looks like you were right, Mary, there _is_ a cat out here.” The girl scoops Minerva up and pets her between the ears. “Where’d you come from, little one?” Minerva purrs at her. “Aww. Mary feel her fur, it’s so soft.”

Mary obliges. “You’re right. And this definitely isn’t Mrs. Norris somehow, is it?”

Minerva bristles, and Lily laughs. “Don’t compare her to Mrs. Norris,” Lily says. “Her coat is much nicer than Filch’s cat.”

“Oi!”

Lily and Mary turn around, carrying Minerva into the common room. From her vantage point in Lily’s arms Minerva sees Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew grouped around the fireplace, orange light casting them into semidarkness. As soon as James sees Lily he freezes, eyes wide behind his glasses. Lily looks at him disdainfully before clucking to Minerva. Minerva asks them why they’re still awake, but the only thing that comes out is an irritated mewling.

“Where’d you find the cat?” Remus asks, inspecting the bundle of fur with great interest.

“She was just outside the portrait,” Mary replies. “What’re you four still doing up? It’s nearly one in the morning.”

“Pettigrew ‘accidentally’ tossed my Transfiguration homework into the fire,” Sirius says languidly, “so he’s fishing it out for me.”

Pettigrew calls over, “Sirius, like I said, I’m so sorry, it was an accident—”

“No worries,” Sirius replies in a breezy tone. “Just give me yours. McGonagall will never know.” Minerva hisses, and Sirius barks at her. “Evans, take your cat to your dormitory, won’t you? I think I’m allergic.”

“Fine,” Lily says loftily. James looks up at her voice. “Don’t let us hear you crying after McGonagall figures out that Peter’s handwriting is far different than yours.”

“Blimey, she’s right,” Sirius mutters, “Hey, Moony, is there a spell to change handwriting?”

Remus replies, as she expects; there isn’t a one among them that would be nicknamed ‘Moony’ other than him. “I’m going to bed,” Remus says tiredly. They watch him climb the steps and pass out of sight.

Sirius opens his mouth to say something—probably to demand that Remus answer his question—but James puts his hand on his friend’s arm. “Let him be, Sirius,” James says quietly. “It’s almost that time.”

The two glance out of the window while Lily watches curiously.

“Why don’t you run off to bed, Evans?” Sirius says abruptly.

Lily’s cheeks turn an irate red. “Excuse me, don’t think you can talk to anyone you’d like to like that. You can’t honestly expect that being so dismissive gives you an edge in the world. You can’t boss everyone around like this.”

Sirius starts to say something but James again interrupts. “She’s right. Sorry, Evans,” he says to her, but she turns sharply on her heels with Minerva still in her arms. “Sleep well, Lily,” James calls, smiling slightly. She completely ignores him. Minerva looks over Lily’s shoulder in time to see James drop his head in his hands and to hear him say dejectedly, “What do I have to do?”

Lily’s fuming when she finally closes the dormitory door. “That arrogant Sirius Black, so much better than all of us because he’s _making a statement_ to his pureblood family—”

“I think he’s dreamy,” Marlene McKinnon says sleepily from behind her curtains.

“Urgh!” Lily shudders. “Ugh, Marlene, _how_?”

“Be fair, Lily, he is rather attractive,” Mary says with a smile as she clambers into bed. Minerva gags slightly.

“See, even the cat disagrees,” Lily says.

Mary and Marlene laugh. “This from the girl who refuses to believe James Potter is anything short of repulsive,” Marlene teases.

“He is! With his stupid hair and smug grin, always playing with that Snitch—”

“Well, when you two finally start dating, I’m sure you’ll change your tune,” Mary says through a yawn. “Goodnight, all.”

After their chorus of “Goodnight” Lily sets Minerva down gently on her pillow. Minerva mews at her, swishing her tail. “I suppose you’ve got to go,” Lily muses. “Well, thank you for letting me hold you. I’ve been missing my cat.”

Minerva accepts a few more scratches between her ears before hopping off the girl’s bed and going back to her spot in the corridor, mind sorting through everything she discovered tonight.

___

Minerva’s visits with Potter increase with alarming regularity his fifth year. She had hoped, at the beginning of term, that Remus Lupin would have a positive effect on James, but Remus’ effectiveness as Prefect seemed limited to the younger students. Though, of course, that was highly beneficial.

Her interactions with James Potter typically follow this format: James walks in, sometimes accompanied by Sirius, usually accompanied by another teacher; James sits in her armchair by the fireplace and rants about the unfairness of his impending punishment, usually making a crack at Severus, followed by an immediate silence in which she speculates he’s thinking about Lily; a few moments on her part, thinking over which words and phrases to use that have any hope of making an impact; and finally giving him a speech on his behavior and detention.

This time, however, things begin a little differently.

Minerva jumps to her feet at the sound of yelling echoes down her corridor. Pulling her wand out from her robes, she runs to the door and throws it open. The sound falters as soon as she pokes her head out and she pauses.

It’s nearly the last day of term. OWLs have been sat and will be sent off to be graded soon. It’s a lovely day, and it’s the last day she’d expect to hear screaming inside the castle. Frowning, she closes her office door and rubs her temples.

A loud crash from upstairs makes her jump. Heart pounding, she snatches up her wand and goes to investigate.

The noise sounds again from a seemingly deserted classroom just off the staircase. Minerva readies herself and leaps into the room. She nearly falls over in surprise.

The room is a mess. Desks and wastebaskets lie scattered around the classroom, most upended. A dark splotch of some substance mars the chalkboard at the head of the room and standing before the mark is Prefect Lily Evans, holding her wand in duelling position. And across from her stands James Potter, his face matching her intensity almost perfectly; his face is too concerned to be a perfect mirror.

“Evans—Potter—what on Earth is going on in here?” Minerva exclaims. In one neat movement she Disarms them both and catches their wands. Lily and James both look mutinous at the loss of their wands, but James hides it better. “One of you, explain why two of my Gryffindor fifth years are duelling in an abandoned classroom on the last day of exams.”

“This is completely—”

“Not you, Potter,” Minerva says swiftly. She quells him with a look and turns to Lily. “Ms. Evans. Explain.”

Lily glares at James. “This toerag insulted Severus.”

“Yeah, maybe, but he called you—”

“Potter!”

“Sorry, Professor.” He doesn’t look or sound sorry.

Lily continues, pointing accusingly at James, “He admitted there was no reason for his actions. What was it you said? Something like, ‘It’s more the fact that he exists’, wasn’t it?”

“C’mon Evans, don’t tell me you’re sticking up for that slimeball after what he called you,” James fires back. “I don’t care if you do think you’re friends, there’s no way Snape feels anything but disdain for you—”

“Shut up!” Lily screams, and Minerva is alarmed to see tears form in her eyes. “Just shut up! This is all your fault!”

“Ms. Evans, please calm yourself!”

“How is what _he_ said _my_ fault?” James demands. “That arrogant little—”

“Watch yourself, Mr. Potter!”

James swallows hard and kicks furiously at a desk. “Lily, this isn’t my fault.”

Minerva holds up her hands bracingly and speaks to them both like she would to the children she never had. “James. Lily. Both of you, please calm yourselves. Now, James, please inform me as to what Severus said to Lily.”

He hesitates. “I’d really rather not say, Professor.”

She studies the two closely. James had carefully avoided looking anywhere near Lily while saying his last sentence, while at his words tears began making their way slowly down her cheeks. It must have been something upsetting, Minerva concludes. Possibly _the_ most upsetting thing for a Muggleborn witch—or wizard, for that matter—to hear.

“Ms. Evans,” Minerva says gently, “thank you for your recollection. You are dismissed. Please go back to the common room.” Lily wipes at her eyes roughly with her sleeves and nods, avoiding James’ worried gaze as she leaves the room. They hear her footsteps running up the staircase and the sound fades before Minerva speaks again.

“James, what exactly did Mr. Snape call her?”

He looks at the spot where Lily stood and says, “He—he called her ‘Mudblood’, Professor. I realize my behavior was…uncalled for. But when someone says that to her—when he called her that I just—” He pauses, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Minerva is struck by how aggrieved he sounds. “You care for her, don’t you?” she asks.

James looks at her and says wryly, “I figured everyone knew. Don’t the teachers have some bet going on?”

“Why on Earth would you think that?” Minerva replies, maybe slightly too fast.

“Slughorn keeps offering me tips,” he says.

She makes a mental note to remind Slughorn that the teachers aren’t meant to interfere. “Well. What I meant was, you really care for her? All of your pranks and badgering, that was because you truly care for her?”

James nods mutely.

“May I offer you some advice of my own, Potter?” He nods again, curiosity etched plainly across his face. “Leave her alone.” James opens his mouth immediately, eyes flashing, but Minerva holds up a hand to stop him. “Let me finish. If you keep hounding her, she’ll only become more annoyed by you. Especially now that everything has happened with Mr. Snape. Give her space. Let her have time to figure out what she wants, and if it’s you, then congratulations. But if it isn’t, then you must wish her well. It’s unfair of you to continuously ask her out, no matter what Professor Slughorn says.”

When he speaks, his voice is very small. “I don’t know how else to make her see that I lo—like her.”

“I rather think she knows,” Minerva says gently. “You’ve certainly made no noticeable attempt to hide your feelings for her. Now it’s time to stop pestering her. Give her respect by listening to what she has to say, and respect her boundaries. Even if her boundaries are that she doesn’t want to see you for a while.”

“I’m not one to give up, Professor.”

“This isn’t giving up. This is giving in, to Lily and what’s best for her. Now, unless there’s anything more you’d like to say about this afternoon, you are dismissed. I should tell you, though, that your antics have earned you a detention after school with Professor Sprout.”

James pulls a squeamish face. “What exactly will I be doing?”

“Bubotuber pus,” Minerva says briskly. “Make sure you bring your gloves.’

___

Minerva observes the students from the teachers’ table as Albus finishes his opening speech. At the Gryffindor table, Lily sits with a moody expression on her face and plays with her wand. She Charms her fork into a purple flower and picks at its petals. A little further off down the table James Potter sits with his friends. His chin is in his hand, and he watches her with the flower. His eyes look sad even from this distance. As Minerva watches, Mary Macdonald leans over, takes her hand, and gently prises the flower out of her grip.

Horace mumbles something under his breath. Minerva turns her head slightly and asks, “What was that, Horace?”

He clears his throat. “I said, they’re all falling apart, aren’t they? All of them, the students. Thanks to the war.” Horace’s voice trembles on those last words. “They’re all so sad this year, Minerva, and I don’t know what we can do,” he finishes with a quiet sob.

“I admit, I was thinking that as well,” she replies quietly. “But we’ll do what we always do.”

“And what’s that?”

“We’ll teach them what we know,” she says, speaking louder to be heard over the applause as Albus finishes his speech. “And we’ll listen. We will be strong for them when they cannot, and as one we will make it through this darkness.”

___

“Mulciber has the Quaffle, and though I despise him you can’t deny the git can fly—”

“Jordan!”

“Sorry, Professor,” River Jordan says, not looking very apologetic.

Minerva watches the game with anxiety prickling up her spine. Gryffindor’s down 60-20, and giving Mulciber a Quaffle essentially guarantees a free goal for Slytherin. The green streak shoots up the field and drops the pass to team captain Lucinda Talkalot, who feints to the right before scoring in the leftmost hoop. Minerva groans with the rest of the Gryffindors.

“And it’s 70-20, Slytherin favor after a decent shot from team captain Talkalot. Doesn’t say much about the Slytherin Chaser formation though; Gryffindor Keeper Davey Gudgeon’s not doing too well today, probably thanks to that injury from the Whomping Willow, but who can blame him? The tree’s a tempting target—”

“Jordan! Kindly refocus your energies on the match at hand!” Minerva yells, punching the air as James Potter scores for Gryffindor.

“Right you are Professor! James Potter with the Quaffle takes a shot and it’s good! 70-30 Slytherin favor still, but the gap’s closing. Oh, Keeper Avery’s not going to be pleased about this, no way.”

Minerva looks at Avery and silently agrees with Jordan. The Keeper looks like he’s going to start throwing punches if he’s scored on again, which means that Black had better get the Snitch soon.

“And what’s this? Has Seeker Emma Vanity noticed the Snitch?”

The girl had gone into a steep dive, intent upon the fluttering golden sphere just below her. Sirius spins around midair and urges his broom after her.

“Looks like we have a chase on our hands! Black zooms after Vanity and with his superior broomstick I’m not sure if she’s going to win this!”

Minerva crosses her fingers as Black narrows the distance. He’s only half a broomstick’s length behind Vanity now; one more second and he’s got it—

“YES! Gryffindor victory, Black caught the Snitch!” Jordan gives Minerva a huge hug, beaming. “That was tense I kid you not. Final score 180-70, Gryffindor win!”

Minerva punches the air in excitement. “Don’t forget, Jordan, this means we’re in prime position for the Quidditch Cup,” she reminds him after she’s composed herself. Jordan repeats her words and the scarlet section of the stands erupt into cheers. The Slytherin section of the crowd grumbles as they leave the field.

Slowly the crowds empty and Minerva follows suit before she catches sight of Potter and Black waiting just off the exit of the field. She casts a Disillusionment charm and approaches cautiously, wondering all the while when it was that she became this invested in the lives of her students.

Black’s saying something to Potter as she nears them. “…something to her.”

James grabs at his hair. “I don’t think I should,” he replies. He searches the stands frantically and when he sees Lily, his face drains of color. James pushes on Black’s shoulder in a vain attempt to make him budge. “No, Padfoot, really, let’s not. Okay?”

“Why not?” Sirius asks in confusion. He looks to where James is still staring and says, “You still like her, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then why—?”

“Because I know that I’m a nuisance,” James replies firmly. He glances at Lily again, and she meets his eyes. He looks away. “C’mon Sirius, let’s just—go to the dormitory.”

Black and Potter trudge off the pitch, leaving Lily staring after them with a bemused expression on her face. Bemused, Minerva thinks, but grateful.

Perhaps James Potter is growing up.

Or perhaps… Minerva observes the slump of the boy’s shoulders. Perhaps James Potter is giving up.

___

The door bangs against the opposite wall and she rubs her temples. “You again, Potter? Third time this week, that must be some sort of record.”

James slumps into her office and throws himself into her armchair. Moodily he says, “Professor Binns sent me.”

“Sent _us_ , actually,” Lily’s voice calls from the doorway. James doesn’t look her way as she walks in, books in her arms, and closes the door with an elbow. “He wanted us to ask you whether you'd be interested in speaking in class, given your involvement with the Ninety-Second Goblin Rebellion.”

Minerva steeples her fingers and raises her eyebrows. “Is that so? How would your story change if I tell you that there is no Ninety-Second Goblin Rebellion?”

Lily’s cheeks flush as James mutters, “I told you she wouldn’t go for it.”

Despite her flaming face, Lily holds her head high. “Well, Professor, it’d probably change to, ‘Professor Slughorn wants to know if you’d mind him using your office for a Christmas party’.”

“A Christmas party? I see.” Minerva’s eyebrows leap higher still. “And is Professor Slughorn going to invite me to this party in my office?”

“I would assume so,” James says. He plays with the beads on her throw pillow.

“Hmm,” she hums noncommittally. “Very interesting. And why, in Merlin’s name, did you two feel the need to mislead me?”

James’ face turns bright red as well. “That would have been my idea,” he answers.

“No, it was both of ours,” Lily says firmly. James looks up at her curiously, but she maintains eye contact with Minerva. “Mostly mine. It was…stupid, Professor, and I’m sorry. We’re both sorry.”

Now this is an interesting development. “Don’t let it happen again, Ms. Evans,” Minerva says, fixing her with a piercing stare.

Lily nods and moves toward the door. She hesitates imperceptibly before turning and saying in a rush, “Coming, Potter?”

“Y-yeah,” James stammers. An uncertain smile hovers just on his lips. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

He opens the door for her and gestures for her to step out into the hallway. Before he follows he shoots Minerva a puzzled but excited look. Minerva bites her cheek to keep from beaming. Instead, she nods encouragingly and shoos him out of her office.

Her one thought is that she should have jumped in on Horace’s bet.

___

The morning after Horace’s Christmas party finds Minerva with a severe cold and headache. She stumbles into her tartan dressing gown before dawn and shuffles off to the Hospital Wing.

“Minerva, what’s the matter today?” Poppy asks with a frown. The other woman feels Minerva’s forehead with the back of her hand. “Perhaps a slight fever. Probably a cold, but don’t worry; I’ll fix you up with something. Just lie down over there, I’ll be right back.” Poppy points vaguely toward the other end of the Hospital Wing, to a bed next to one with drawn curtains.

Minerva walks to the indicated bed in a slight daze and collapses on it. She hugs the pillow tight to her chest and is about to fall back asleep when a male voice comes from the other side of the curtain.

“Evans, hey, Evans,” it says, “are you awake?”

Minerva’s first blurry thought is, bizarrely, that the Muggle Evans she grew up with found his way into Hogwarts. She’s about to call “hello” when a girl’s voice responds.

“How’d we get here?” the girl asks groggily. “Ah! My neck is sore.”

“I ate something with peanuts in it,” the boy replies. “Don’t you remember? I swelled up like a balloon, but you took me to the here, and Madam Pomfrey fixed me right up.”

“I did?” the girl asks, evidently puzzled. The girl’s voice is very familiar; Minerva strains to pin it down, but the sound drifts away.

“Yes,” the boy says gently. “And you stayed with me,” he continues with clear wonder in his voice. “You fell asleep on my blankets.”

In faint surprise Minerva identifies the boy as James Potter. And—the Evans he is talking to must be—

The door at the far end of the wing bursts open with a clang. Minerva winces at the noise as three boys crowd rowdily around James’ bedside. “Prongs!” one exclaims. “Back among the living. Well done.”

“Don’t tease him like that, Sirius,” an exhausted sounding Remus says. Minerva notes the affection in his voice when he says Sirius’ name and files the information away.

“Where you here all night, Lily?” comes the third voice. This one, Minerva decides, must be Peter Pettigrew. His words immediately change the mood in their little group.

Lily’s voice, when it comes, is highly uncomfortable. “I—well. Yes, it would seem so.”

“Is your neck okay?” Remus asks. “You look like it’s hurting you.”

“Fell asleep funny,” she mumbles. Minerva can just imagine the expression on James’ face at her words.

Poppy bustles over with a steaming goblet, but before she can speak Minerva mouths _shh_ and gestures to the curtain.

Poppy whispers, “Are they together yet?” Minerva must be looking at her strangely, because she adds, “Horace told me all about the bet you all have going on, and it’s not hard to tell they care for each other. So,” she continues, pressing the goblet into Minerva’s hands, “are they together yet?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Minerva whispers back. She bites down a cough, and Poppy looks concerned.

“I rather think you should drink this,” the other witch says. “It will do you good.”

“But—I want to know—” Minerva says weakly in protest. Poppy looks at her sternly and Minerva drinks the goblet. She feels its effects immediately; her vision swims, bending the lights in the infirmary into a luminous pane just above their heads just before she falls asleep.

___

“Well, Horace?” Pomona asks at the Closing Feast. “Did anything happen between them this year?”

Minerva looks at Horace over the rim of her goblet. His face is red from his mulled mead and goes redder from the question. He sighs dramatically and says, “Alas, no. Nothing lasting, that is…I heard Ms. Evans stayed in the Hospital Wing when he was ill, but as it is…I suppose I owe you all two Galleons.”

Lily and James look up at the teachers’ table and there’s a flurry of movement as the teachers begin impromptu conversations. Horace’s voice booms over the hall as he chats with Pomona about rare potions ingredients, and Minerva surveys the Hall. Another year over.

“It can be so difficult to measure progress,” Albus says musingly. “But do you know one surefire method to undertake in searching for it?”

Minerva nods. She has a sneaking suspicion she knows where he’s going with this. “One only has to look at where the two of them are sitting,” she replies with an incline of her head. Albus follows her gaze and nods solemnly at their close proximity. As they watch, Sirius says something to them and they laugh. Remus smiles indulgently.

Albus says, “Indeed. Progress amongst two people seemingly at odds is an excellent way to see growth. But also,” he says, pointing subtly, “progress between those on seemingly different sides.”

She’s about to ask what he means, but then she understands.

Severus Snape is looking towards the Gryffindor table, his mouth set in a firm line. And Peter Pettigrew glances nervously at his friends before returning Snape’s gaze.

___

“Now, you’ve all demonstrated proficiency in Transfiguration on your OWLs, otherwise you would not be allowed to take this class at NEWT level,” Minerva lectures. She scans the class and nods in satisfaction at the high caliber students standing before her. “I assure you, NEWTs are infinitely more difficult than OWLs. This year your exams will probe your familiarity with every subject you’re taking. The examiners—and I—expect that your results will reflect the seven years you’ve spent at this castle. Therefore, I will not be teaching by rote.”

Sirius Black pulls a face, and she addresses him. “Yes, Mr. Black, I expect you all to put in the hours outside of class and dedicate yourselves to enriching your knowledge. I will of course be teaching every day. However, if you ask a question—I should say, _when_ you ask questions—I expect indications of further research to be present in your essays.”

Minerva takes a breath. Lily Evans meets her eyes determinedly, hugging her gigantic Transfiguration book to her chest, and Minerva gives her a small smile. Remus Lupin leans against a desk and smiles wanly. There are dark circles under his eyes from the last full moon. James Potter stands between Lily and Remus, and he gives Minerva two thumbs up, beaming. Lily catches his expression and she laughs quietly. This makes his smile turn even goofier. His eyes shine with happiness behind his glasses. Severus Snape sulks behind James’ shoulder, glaring.

“I’m going to pair you up,” Minerva continues, and she raises her voice to be heard over the grumbling that results. She does note, though, that Lily and James are both listening with renewed interest. “I expect each of you to ensure that your partner is on task during class and I expect that you also assist each other outside of class. There will be research essays due later this year that you and your partner will be required to work on.”

Minerva settles her glasses back on the bridge of her nose. “Now, please listen up as I read off your partners. Mr. Lupin and Ms. Vanity.” She pauses for a moment, but neither move. “Please stand by your partners so I know if I’ve sorted everyone properly. Mr. Nott and Ms. Macdonald. Mr. Black and Mr. Snape. And that leaves…Ms. Evans and Mr. Potter.”

The students shuffle around to stand by their partners. Minerva is well aware of the risk involved with pairing Sirius and Severus, a fact made unpleasantly clear by their mutual glare, but with luck they’ll overcome their past unpleasantness. Lily and James, on the other hand, are clearly giddy by their partnership. James offers Lily a mock serious handshake and she accepts, a faint flush on her cheeks. He holds on slightly longer than needed, and they only drop hands, their cheeks now bright red, when Sirius clears his throat loudly.

Minerva smiles. This year looks very promising.

___

She patrols the corridors on the evening of Horace’s Christmas party. It’s difficult today thanks to her feline sense of smell, because the food wafting from his office almost tangibly float above her head on every breeze. Minerva sharply reminds herself to stay on task.

It’s a quiet night for Hogwarts. Peeves is currently making a racket on the floor above her, but it’s not out of the ordinary. Secretly she’s pleased it was Pomona assigned that corridor and not herself. Horace’s hallway is delightfully empty of everything save the occasional strain of laughter.

Except suddenly it isn’t. Minerva blinks and stretches before padding off to follow the sound of two pairs of footsteps. One’s lighter than the other, so likely a woman; the other, heavier, follows in quick pursuit.

The sounds turn the corner, except now words filter back to her pointed ears. It sounds like sobbing. She increases her speed and, as shapes of two people come into view, she darts quickly into a crevice between a suit of armor and the wall. Carefully peeking her head out from behind the base of the armor, she sees a bright flash of red and two smaller circles of reflected light. Lily and James.

Lily’s voice is thick with tears. “I—I can’t, James. I can’t do this, not with _that_ . Why did you tell me _that?_ Why now?”

“I’m sorry, Lily,” James replies, the gentleness of his tone barely covering confusion on his face. “I didn’t realize—”

“We’re seventeen!” Lily’s voice breaks into sobs. James reaches out to brush away her tears, but she swats his hand away. “No, listen to me. We’re seventeen, there’s a war going on, Mary’s father _died_ —do you understand how little I’m prepared to deal with this right now? I’m failing Charms, _me_ , because I’m so worried about my family, and you think telling me you _love_ me is going to make everything better?”

Her voice goes shrill at the end of her last sentence. She turns abruptly and walks away from him. There’s a perceptible note of desperation in James’ voice when he calls, “Lily, wait!” She pauses, and he takes a few hesitant steps in her direction. Lily isn’t facing him. “Lily, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I—I shouldn’t’ve said that, I realize now, I’ll just—go get…Marlene, then,” he finishes awkwardly, and heads back to the party. Minerva gets a good look at his face as he passes her hiding place and is saddened by the tear tracks shining on his skin.

“James.” Lily’s words are barely a whisper, but the instant she utters them James stops and turns toward her. Minerva strains to hear as she continues in the same wispy voice, “Stay.”

Now she looks up at him. “Please?”

James sighs. “You know I’ll always.” He takes her hands, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles.

“Always what?” Lily asks softly.

Now he smiles tenderly at her. He sets his hand along Lily’s jawline and wipes away her tears with his thumb as he says, “I’ll always stay with you.”

Lily slowly slides her hand behind James’ head and he leans down. And as they kiss for the first time, Minerva quietly slips away up the hallway.

___

“I suppose this means that you owe me two Galleons, Pomona, Albus,” Minerva says over breakfast a month later. They’re carefully observing Lily and James without making it obvious that they’re staring. Her colleagues make light conversation with their neighbors, keeping one eye on the Gryffindor couple. The rest of the Hall isn’t so subtle; several students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw table are standing on their benches to verify the rumors with their own eyes, while most of the Slytherins merely roll their eyes. Severus Snape, however, is holding his knife like in a vise grip and glares as James brushes a strand of hair behind Lily’s ear.

“Is that so?” Pomona asks, an innocent expression on her face. “Didn’t you say they’d get together at the Quidditch Cup?”

Albus shakes his head. “No, most unfortunately for the two of us, she gave them seventh year until just after the celebration for the Quidditch Cup. Did I say ‘the two of us’? Surely it’s still ‘the three of us’, Horace?”

Horace Slughorn grimaces. “No, I paid my loss last year,” he says in a deeply wounded tone.

“That you did,” Minerva says with great satisfaction.

They make no pretense of their staring and scrutinize the pair. Pomona voices their shared thought: “Do you think they’ll make it?”

Lily kisses James on the cheek as Minerva says, “Yes. I really do.”

________

“Gryffindor!” the Hat roars. Minerva lifts the Hat off Harry Potter’s head and watches as the boy shakily walks off to his parents’ house. She gasps aloud, though it’s hidden by the uproarious cheering; he’s sat right where his parents ate their last meal at Hogwarts. She has to turn around to compose herself and as she does she meets Albus’ gaze. She’s soothed somewhat by the fact that he has tears in his eyes as well.

Minerva gives herself one last memory—the sight of Lily and James, alight with happiness on their wedding day—before moving on with her list.


End file.
